


The Best-Laid Plans

by Anonymous



Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors
Genre: Conspiracy, Dark Comedy, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22046284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: No battle plan survives contact with the enemy, especially when the enemy is within.  Little Horus Aximand and the conspiracy to return one Tarik Torgaddon to the Warmaster's fold.
Kudos: 13
Collections: PB Anon Meme - 2019





	The Best-Laid Plans

"Okay, here's the plan," Aximand said to the gathered Astartes. "It's called: Convincing Tarik to Join The Winning Side and it has a failure rate of five percent."

"Is there any way to get that lower?" Ezekyle asked.

"No."

"Why not?" Targost asked.

"Because the simulation won't ever give a 100%," Aximand explained, mentally counting to ten to bolster his patience. He reminded himself he needed everyone on-board, on the same page. Tarik was a slippery one even in the best of moods and now that he was bordering on antagonistic, they needed to exercise caution.

"Need I remind you we're dealing with Tarik here?" Luc interjected. "Successful retrieval from Murder was estimated at .1% but he managed it."

"Yes, Luc," Aximand ground out, tapping the still-covered plan impatiently, "I am aware we are dealing with Tarik. Hence the need to come up with a plan that cannot fail."

"Didn't you just say there's a 5% chance of failure?" Luc retorted.

"Because of the simulation, not the plan," Aximand insisted. Then he heaved the cover off of the board and rapped the back of his hand against the meticulously-drawn diagram. "Alright, so this is how it's going to go..."

-

"Well," Luc snorted when Plan A went up in flames. "That went quite well, didn't it?"

"Five percent chance my foot," Ezekyle scoffed.

"Tarik is a slippery son of a bitch," Targost shrugged, giving Aximand a sympathetic look.

"The Warp has grand plans for him," Erebus murmured, in the midst of drawing further esoteric circles. "It may be best to let things run their course."

"You mean to abandon Tarik?" Aximand demanded. The thought was anathema. "Tarik?"

"He did raise a blade against the First Chaplain," Maloghurst pointed out. "In the lodge, might I add."

"No harm no foul," Erebus shrugged. He looked up and offered Aximand a cryptic smile, "Of course I don't mean to abandon so beloved a brother. Do not think I let just anyone hold knives to my throat."

Ezekyle cleared his throat, clearly impatient. "Your foolproof plan failed," he reiterated, "So what now?"

"We try again, obviously," Aximand answered, frustrated that the question needed to be asked at all. "It's Tarik, he'll come around eventually."

"Careful, Little Horus," Luc warned, "You keep at it and next thing you know, he'll be dragging you to the Remembrancers' table for poetry reading and the like."

"Tarik is Cthonian to the core," Aximand snorted, "Even Garviel wouldn't be able to convince him to sit through those diatribes."

"The Tenth Captain's hold over him is vexing as of late," Maloghurst contended, "It's as if he's got the moon dancing on the end of a string."

Aximand frowned at the implications behind the word choice. "It doesn't matter," he insisted, "I've thought up a new plan. The Final Solution grows close and we've no choice but to use force."

"Finally!" Ezekyle exclaimed.

-

"What do you mean he's already shipped out?!" Aximand demanded.

"It is what it is," Maloghurst said, looking over the disembarkation manifest. "Two squads from the Second elected to make the drop with the rest of the Tenth."

"Of course Tarik was leading the charge," Luc added.

Aximand felt the beginnings of a migraine as the second of his plans quickly went up in flames. He drew a long breath and massaged his temples, determined to bring order to the congregation.

"That's fine," he insisted.

"Is it?" Ezekyle retorted.

"It is. Look here, that Tenth Captain he was so fond of -- "

"Garviel's shipped out with his company," Targost interrupted.

"I'm not talking about Garviel," Aximand retorted, "I'm talking about that man from the Third."

"Didn't you just say the Tenth?" Ezekyle asked.

"What's the Half-Heard got to do with any of this?" Luc said at the same time.

"No, not _our_ Third. _The_ Third!"

"Ah," Maloghurst clapped his hands together in understanding, "Saul Tarvitz, you mean."

"Yes, him. He's still on board the _Andronicus_. Open a link with the Lord Commander, have him sequestered on-board. We'll either have him play diplomat or use him as a bargaining chip."

"That could work," Erebus admitted, thoughtfully tapping his chin, "Tarik was fairly fond of that son of Fulgrim."

"Of course it'll work," Aximand insisted, "It has to."

-

"Of course it'll work," Ezekyle parroted, curling his lips in a sneer, "It'll have to."

"Shut up," Aximand snarled.

"Face it, Little Horus," the First Captain snorted, "Tarik is a traitor."

"Tarik is no traitor!" Aximand growled, pulling himself to his full height to stand chest-to-chest against the other.

At once, Erebus squeezed between them and Luc and Targost pulled them apart.

"It's Tarik," Luc stressed, "I don't know why we expected anything less."

"It does appear as if the fates desire him as a martyr," Targost muttered.

"To hell with the fates!" Aximand spat, throwing off Targost's arm and stepping forward again to glare at Ezekyle. "Look me in the eye and tell me you can kill him. Go on, Ezekyle, say it!"

The First Captain looked more likely to kill the Fifth Captain then. He opened his mouth but could not bring himself to say the damning words.

"He wouldn't listen to reason, nor could we keep him from the drop pods and now the only person we might have used as bait has stolen a Thunderhawk to warn them of the virus bombs, so I ask again: what other options are available to us?" Ezekyle demanded.

"I don't know," Aximand admitted, "But we can't give up. Not like this. This is Tarik," he looked from one face to the next and saw similarly strained expressions. " _Tarik_ ," he repeated.

After a minute of silence, Erebus spoke up.

"A thought occurred to me."

"Pray tell," Luc drawled.

"Nothing is stopping us from performing an extraction mission."

"Except for the fact that our target is the most slippery son of a bitch in the galaxy," Ezekyle grumbled.

"At this rate, it might be easier to kill him first than to bring him around," Luc sighed.

"Don't joke like that," Aximand warned.

"Actually," Erebus smiled, "That's not a half-bad idea. We'd have a higher chance of luring him out too if we didn't come with an Astartes-sized cage."

"Run that by me again?" Luc asked.

"We are not killing Tarik," Aximand insisted.

"It would only be a temporary death," Erebus reassured him, "As I've said before, the Warp has designs on him. His spirit would not be lost to the Empyrean."

"This is news," Maloghurst murmured, frowning. "Why did you not share it beforehand?"

Erebus shrugged. "Like Aximand, I had hoped it wouldn't come to this."

"Hello? Did you hear me? We are _not_ killing Tarik," Aximand repeated.

"Are you sure you can revive him?" Ezekyle asked, ignoring the Fifth Captain.

"Yes."

"On what grounds?"

"Ezekyle, Erebus," Aximand pleaded, "Can we please turn to other methods?"

"Your plans have not born fruit," Luc said. "Why not try the First Chaplain's?"

"Because it involves killing Tarik," Aximand answered, incredulous this could be a point of contention.

At the same time, Erebus answered with: "I could commune with the Warp so as to reassure you."

"And what would a communion say?" Targost asked.

"I imagine we would be reassured of the efficacy of the ritual and Tarik's importance in the grander scheme of the galaxy," Erebus shrugged, "You realise the gods intend for him to outlive most of us here?"

This news was enough to catch Aximand off-guard.

"You're sure?" he pressed.

Erebus shrugged again. "Equerry?" he asked, looking at Maloghurst.

Maloghurst heaved a sigh. "Very well," he acquiesced, hobbling over and allowing Erebus to draw one of his occult circles on the steel beneath his feet.

-

"I couldn't do it," Ezekyle admitted.

"I'm surprised Little Horus could," Erebus murmured. Both of them looked over at Little Horus Aximand, who was curled up in the corner of the cargo bay, clenching and unclenching his fists and muttering to himself.

"He looks like hell warmed over," Luc observed.

"Well he did just take off Tarik's head," Targost shrugged and then shuddered. Midway through the second motion, Ezekyle reached over and boxed his ear.

"Ow!" Targost yelped, leaping back in surprise. "What the hell was that for?!"

"His corpse is still warm, show some respect," the First Captain spat.

"He's not actually dead, is he?" Luc asked. "I mean, it's Tarik. He's probably got a dozen body doubles."

"No, it was Tarik," Ezekyle insisted.

"Erebus?" Targost prompted.

"What do you expect me to do?" the First Chaplain asked.

"Revive him? As promised?"

"How am I to do that without a body?"

"How on earth were we to know you needed a body?!" Ezekyle roared.

"It's a matter of revival, not cloning him again in a tank," Erebus snorted, "Don't confuse me with the Primogenitor. This is purely a matter of faith."

"My faith in you is wavering," Targost groaned, "I can't believe you didn't tell us we needed to bring the body back!"

"Peace," Erebus sighed, raising a hand, "I'll go down to Isstvan. Retrieve what's left of him."

The five of them paused as Aximand rolled onto his side to vomit.

"That's just nasty," Luc said, making a face.

"He just killed Tarik," Ezekyle shuddered, "I'd say he's handling it quite well."

"You will find him and revive him," Maloghurst commanded, looking Erebus in the eye. "The Warmaster is displeased with current developments."

"Do you think he suspects that we goaded Angron into the drop pods?" Luc asked, laughing sheepishly.

"He is the Warmaster," Maloghurst answered. "He is surely aware of all which occurs on his ship but it would be an... understandable measure, so long as Tarik is returned to us."

"Make no mistake," Erebus reassured them, "He is as dear to me as he is to you. I am sorry, Captain Aximand," he added, turning to the other, "That you were forced into this task. I am certain however, that Tarik himself will forgive you at the drop of a hat, as soon as he's back."

"Bring him back," Ezekyle said, placing a hand on the First Chaplain's pauldron. "Bring him back and then we'll talk."

"Of course," Erebus bowed his head, "Like my gene-father, I live to serve." And with that, he glided out of the meeting room, no doubt on his way to the Word Bearers' quarters.

"Think he'll make it?" Luc asked in the silence that followed.

"He better," Ezekyle said, cracking his knuckles.

"He will," Maloghurst reassured him.

"Will he?" Luc turned on the equerry, raising an eyebrow, "Is there something you're not telling us, Twisted?"

"He will," Maloghurst repeated, and there was an edge of steel to his tone, "Because otherwise the Warmaster will chase his spirit down himself."

Aximand let out a piteous cry then.

Luc looked at him, shuddered, and then looked away. "He's such a slippery slimey son of a bitch," he said again.

"And yet we love him so," Targost smiled wanely.

"Yes," Luc frowned, "Unfortunate but true."

"Tarik will be returned to us," Ezekyle reiterated, "We just need to last until then."

In response, Aximand curled into himself again and wept.


End file.
